


Lost and Found

by Thebipear



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, You've been warned, also there'll be violence later on possibly very explicit, and smut too, but they'll be minor or hinted, i called this AU: let's make everyone's lives a mess and see how they try to fix them, the humor is as lame as me, there'll be a lot more characters but i'll add them later, there'll be more pairings too, this story is going to be a weird mix of happiness and angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-08-10 16:32:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7852678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebipear/pseuds/Thebipear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you think life can't go worse, and then it does get worse. So, how do you keep living, how do you keep moving forward in this disgusting mess of a world? And more importantly: why?</p>
<p>They say happiness is found in the little things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm finally doing this.
> 
> I've been working in this story for a few weeks, and it's time to finally start sharing it. I only have a plot outline and this chapter done (though the second one is half-written), but I decided to begin posting it here because I keep going back again and again to my drafts and editing things, and at that rate I wouldn't post anything until 2018.
> 
> This is my first fanfic and also the longest thing I've ever written in English, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. I'd really, really appreciate some feedback, so don't be shy, please.  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy the first chapter! ^.^
> 
> P.S.: I'm sorry for Bokuto's ringtone. I couldn't help it.

The summer was exhaling its dying breaths, the sun warm during the central hours of the day but incapable of overcoming the cold that crawled upon the early mornings and evenings. In that moment that friendly sun was shining, alone in the sky except for a little fluffy cloud keeping it company. Kuroo inhaled deeply as he closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting the warmth seep through his eyelids. He was exhausted but agitated at the same time. It was a really weird sensation, like his body and mind were working in different rythms causing him a certain feel of irreality, as if the universe was slightly bent. 

He really needed to sleep.

With a sigh, Kuroo began walking again. He was a bit early for his appointment, but still he was walking pretty fast. His mind raced despite his physical exhaustion, thoughs spinning almost uncontrolably. He took note of every car he encountered on his way, every tree, every obscene writing in the deteriorated walls of the buildings around him, just to keep his frantic brain occupied.

Finally, he arrived to his destination: a little tattoo parlor with the front wall painted a faded purple. The sign belonged to a bar that was placed before in that establishment, apparently called _Good Moments_. The true name of the parlor was a mystery. Kuroo pushed the door with a little too much force and entered.

“Morning”, he greeted to the inside of the shop in general. A young man with dark hair and a freckled face was behind the counter reading a magazine.

“Oh, good morning, Kuroo”, he greeted back, taking his eyes off the magazine for a moment, “You’re early again”.

Kuroo shrugged “I guess I walk fast. How much time ‘til my turn?”

“At least 15 minutes”, the receptionist replied with an apologetic tone. “Your seat is free”, he added with an amused smile.

“Better be”, Kuroo sing-songed, and sat on the waiting room. He took a quick look at the magazines piling up in a small table near him. He had already read them all.

“You should buy new ones, you know? I already know all of these by memory”, he teased.

The receptionist was going to reply, but his phone interrupted him. He pulled it out of his pocket and couldn’t avoid blushing a bit after seeing the name on the screen.

“Hi, Tsukki!”, he greeted enthusiastically.

On his seat, Kuroo snorted, which earned him a glare from the other man.

“Excuse me for a bit”, he said to the phone before covering it with a hand. “I’m going inside to talk. Behave. And if someone enters, tell them to wait for me.”

Kuroo gave him a mock salute.

“Aye, aye. I’ll guard yout castle, my lord Yamaguchi.”

The receptionist rolled his eyes as he went back to his phone and dissapeared into the parlor’s backroom, his cheerful voice fading behind the walls. Kuroo snickered to himself and leaned back into his seat, resting his head in the clean white tiles of the wall behind him. His physical tiredness was beginning to reach his mind too, but he resisted it. He couldn’t fall asleep in the parlor again. Besides, he had a lot of things to do that day: first the tattoo session, then grocery shopping, then make lunch and clean his appartment a bit, then going to work on the afternoon… No, definitely, he couldn’t afford to rest yet.

After wandering his gaze through the shop for a bit, thinking, he decided to call Bokuto to distract himself. And also to reprimand him for leaving his laundry in the middle of the kitchen again. That messy bastard…

The line tone sounded two, three, four times. Kuroo glanced at his watch, wondering if his best friend was still asleep.

Finally, a really hoarse voice answered him with a groan that could barely count as a greeting.

“Are you smoking _again_ , bro? It’s like 10 am-” He was interrupted.

A perplexed silence.

“What?! What happened to you?! Are you alright?!”. Kuroo was beginning to stand up, ready to run if necessary, but he was interrupted again.

He sighed and relaxed on his seat.

“Ok, ok, calm down. You probably caught the flu or something, and I had to leave early for the tattoo, remember? Text me when you’re finished and I’ll go get you if I’m already out. If not, I’ll text you back and we can meet halfway home.”

He listened to the brief response, said goodbye and hanged up. Then he brought his hands to his temples, calculating. With Bokuto sick, all the chores would fall on him. Also, he’d have to add chicken soup to the grocery list and mentally prepare himself for taking care of Bokuto, as his best friend was _really_ clingy when sick.

Lost in his thoughts, Kuroo didn’t notice that someone had entered the parlor until he heard the front door closing. The sound startled him more tan it should have, and his little yelp startled the newly arrived too, who jumped a little.

“Sorry”, Kuroo apologized while directing his eyes at the other person.

Said person was Akaashi, the tattoo artist who was going to work with him. He offered Kuroo an aknowledging bow as he uncurled the scarf around his neck and entered the shop’s backroom.

Kuroo sighed once again. He had the feeling that day was going to be long.

***

Bokuto could barely see due to his watery eyes. Also, his head was constantly pounding and he was sure that he walked as good as a drunk ninety-year-old. He managed to arrive to the hospital, though, and was able to communicate to a nurse that he needed attention. That, or the nurse saw him and understood the situation immediately, which was the most probable case.

It was about 10 a.m. and the waiting room was almost empty. Bokuto could discern one person sitting in the chair closest to one of the corners of the room, but didn’t have the energy to even try to see who was it. Unconsciously ─he was almost sleeping while walking─ he sat two chairs to the left from that person, who stood up and went to sit somewhere else. In other situation, Bokuto would have felt hurt by the stranger’s disdain. However, he was busy enough whining not-quite-internally and trying not to puke.

Bokuto sniffled for maybe the fiftieth time that morning and rested his head on one hand, feeling like shit. He didn’t even live that far from the hospital, but the short walk was torture for him. He damned the skies for leaving him alone that awful morning, as his best friend and roommate wasn’t home when he woke up feeling like a truck had ran over him.

Suddenly, the very loud first chords of Elton Jones’ _What’s new pussycat_ blasted from his pone, making him jump. Trough the corner of his congested eyes he coud see that the other person had actually fallen from their chair. He struggled to take his phone out of his pocket for a few seconds and then he struggled again to unlock it. He finally answered, just when a very irritated nurse entered the waiting room and shot him a glare that coul dissolve a human being.

“Hey”, he responded to the other’s greeting. His voice was so hoarse his greeting came out as an undescribable groan.

A brief pause.

“Wait, wait, I’m not!” he paused to gulp. His throat was burning and his stomach made a dangerous flip. “I’m at the hospital, bro”.

There were two seconds of silence.

“Are you still there?”, Bokuto asked. “No, no, I don’t think is anything serious. I just woke up feeling like shit and ─he gulped again and his eyes began to water with tears that had little to do with his sickness─ my head really hurts bro, and you weren’t home and I thought I was going to die alone because I felt so, so bad…”

He was interrupted, and spent a few seconds listening and mildly sobbing at the same time. 

“Yeah… yeah… okay”. His voice was barely a whisper.

“Okay… bye”. He ended the call and sniffled again.

At least he was feeling a tiny bit better after talking to Kuroo. With his mind a little clearer, he remembered the person who fell off their chair and approached them to apologize.  
Said person was a boy who looked to be in his late teens, with badly bleached hair and crumpled clothes too big for him. He had his right arm heavily bandaged, and although his body was probably half of Bokuto’s, he shot him a caustic glare that had nothing to envy tho the nurse’s.

Bokuto pretended not to see that look and sat nonchalantly, leaving an empty chair between them.

“Hi.” He obtained no answer, “Sorry for startling you with my ringtone, I have to set it really loud or I wouldn’t hear it while sleeping”.

The boy didn’t even look at him. His eyes were fixed on his phone ─Bokuto couldn’t help but marvel at how he handled the device one-handed ─, his posture tense.

“So… this is really empty today, uh?”

No answer again. Bokuto was starting to feel awkward. Also, his throat was aching more and more with each word he said. He shut up.

A long silence invaded the waiting room, only broken by the occasional tune of the hospital phone and the nurse’s distant words. Bokuto started to fidget impatiently. He was sick and feeling bad and he wanted to go home and sleep for twenty years. But he hated being ignored, so he tried to start a conversation yet again.

“I think I have the flu or someting. What happened to you?”

The boy finally met his eyes, looking at him with the most deadpan expression Bokuto had ever seen in his life.

“A rabid grandma attacked me on the street and bit my arm”, he said with a tone who rivaled his expression.

Bokuto didn’t know if the boy was actually being serious or not. After all, he had seen really weird shit during his life in that city. He didn’t get to ask, though, as he was called in by the doctor in that moment.

***

The constant buzz of the machine was lulling. Kuroo was grateful for the mild pain of the needles, otherwise he would fall asleep. It would be easy, as he was laying on his stomach and the chair, put in a horizontal position, was incredibly comfortable. That, or he was really tired. Or both.

He thought of something to say to start a conversation and distract himself, but he quickly remembered that Akaashi didn’t like to talk while working. He said once that it ruined his concentration.

Kuroo turned his head, careful not to move more than necessary, and stared at Akaashi throguh the corner of his eye. He was intensely focused, completely immobile except for his hands, that were gently but firmly tracing the lines of Kuroo’s tattoo. Paying a bit more attention, Kuroo saw that Akaashi didn’t get much sleep the previous night either. His eyes were framed by dark bags and his expression was tired. Also, his hair was messier than normal. Not that Kuroo could talk, though, but he wondered about the cause of Akaashi’s tiredness. It wasn’t his businnes, but even so, Kuroo found himself hipothesizing. He barely knew anything about the artist ¬–only that he was new in the city and that he was an experienced and talented tattoo artist─ so he entertained himself imagining wild scenarios.

After a time that could either be ten minutes or an hour, Akaashi’s quiet voice broke the silence.

“We’re finished for today, Kuroo-san. Let me cover the tattoo and you can get up and stretch.”

“When will the next sesion be?”, Kuroo asked.

Akasshi thought the answer for a minute while he cleaned everything and prepared the aftercare products.

“Let it rest for a week. If some part reddens too much, we’ll postpone a few days more.”

Kuroo flinched a little when Akaashi covered the tattoo. After that, he got up and put his hoodie and coat back on. His back and neck were sore, but it wasn’t a really uncomfortable sensation.

“Hey, Akaashi, would you like to go get some coffe or something tomorrow?”, Kuroo asked without thinking.

“Why?”, Akaashi looked baffled at the proposal.

Kuroo shrugged.

“No reason. I think you’re pretty cool but I barely know you, so…” Akaashi was looking at him with a mix of distrust and confusion, so he quickly added: “I mean, I’m not hitting on you or anything, I just thought I could use a new friend in this giant trashcan of a city”.

Akaashi relaxed a little, but was still reluctant.

“If I recall correctly, you have a crazy work schedule. Are you missing your job for a totally-not-hitting-on-me-coffe-or-something?”

Kuroo snorted.

“I don’t have work tomorrow, that’s why I proposed it. But hey, I’m not forcing you.”

“Thank you. Honestly, I don’t trust you enough to meet you outside the parlor, and I don’t want to spend the next month working awkwardly with you. The tattoo wouldn’t turn out good.”

“Harsh.” Kuroo brought his hand to his chest in mock hurt. “Anyways, I respect your decision.” Kuroo exited the room, waving at Akaashi. “See you next week!”

After arranging his next appointment and teasing Yamaguchi about his phone call until he was as red as a tomato, Kuroo left the parlor in the direction of the nearest convenience store. He retrieved his phone from his coat pocket and lit it up. No messages. Either there were a lot of people in the hospital, or Bokuto had forgotten to text him.

Whatever the case, Kuroo decided to text him.

**To: Motherhooter (OvO)  
You out yet or have you died there?**

**To: Motherhooter (OvO)  
Dont you die before paying this months rent you dickhead**

The response was almost instantaneous.

_From: Motherhooter (OvO)  
FUCK I FORGOT TTEXT U IM AT THE PHARMACY BUYING SHIT AND I CANT UNDERSTAND THE DOCTORS WRITING AND I DONT REMEMBER THE NAME OF THE THING I HAVE TO BUY AND HELP BRO I FEEL AWFUL AND IM THNKIN OF FALLLING ASLEEP HERE ON THE FLOOR_

_From: Motherhooter (OvO)  
also u think im dead and the first thing u think about is rent u hurt my heart bro i thot u loved me :’’’’’(((((_

Kuroo sighed, relieved.

**To: Motherhooter (OvO)  
Calm down Bo just give the receipt to the pharmacian, theyll understand. And of course i think about rent, if you die i still need a place to live**

_From: Motherhooter (OvO)_  
_DDDDDDDDDDDD:  
BETRAYAL_

**To: Motherhooter (OvO)  
jk jk id be devastated if you died bro. My heart would break in tiny pieces and id die too**

_From: Motherhooter (OvO)_  
_then ill never die nd well be inmortal together  
also i bought the medeicne and im going home now but this shit looks disgusting af_

**To: Motherhooter (OvO)  
Dont worry ill buy something good to eat for you, just go to bed**

_From: Motherhooter (OvO)  
:*_

 

***

Kuroo entered his apartment after fumbling a bit with the door and was met with a familiar nauseating smell that made him grimace. The plumbing was reeking again.

“Bo, I’m home!” He shouted to the house in general.

Only silence answered him, which meant that Bokuto was either asleep, feeling really sick, or high. Sighing, Kuroo carried the grocery bags to the kitchen and put them on the counter, carefully balancing them on the narrow surface. Then, unable to stand the smell, went to close all the windows of the apartment. When he arrived to Bokuto’s door, he knocked gently.

“Bo? Are you awake?”

After waiting in vain for a response, Kuroo slowly opened the door. Bokuto’s room was a mess, like always, and his friend was lying on his bed inside a cocoon of sheets. That wasn’t a good sign. Usually, Bokuto used to sleep with one or no sheets, and spread through the whole bed. The window was closed, and the room smelled like sickness.  
Worried, Kuroo approached the bed and put a hand inside the cocoon, searching for Bokuto’s forehead. He was warm, but not alarmingly so. The contact made him stir and mumble something.

“Don’t wake up”, Kuroo said softly. “I’ll make lunch. I bought chicken soup, you want some?”

Bokuto mumbled again and took his head out of the cocoon, eyes still closed.

“Did you take your medication? What did the doctor receipt you?”

_“s’onthetable”_

Kuroo stood up and looked on Bokuto’s desk. There, between mountains of papers and a few crumpled bills, was a bag of medication and the receipt from the pharmacy. He grabbed the last thing and tried to read the scribbles on it. He could distinguish an eight, so he supposed Bokuto had to take one of the pills every eight hours. The bag was missing one already.

“Did you feel that bad that you already took one?”, Kuroo asked while turning to face Bokuto.

Bokuto had sat on the bed. He still had his eyes half closed, and certainly looked like shit.

“I need a favor, bro”, he said. His voice sounded terrible.

“Anything for my sick darling.”

Bokuto chuckled, and Kuroo relaxed a bit. That was a good reaction.

“I need you to go buy muy weed tomorrow, I can’t go if I’m like this.”

Kuroo stiffened.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do this, you know,” Bokuto added. He couldn’t see Kuroo’s expression, but he knew he wouldn’t like it. “But I ran out too son and if I don’t get more tomorrow…”

Kuro sighed, irritated.

“This stupid crush of yours on you drug dealer is a pain in the ass”, he grumbled. “I’m going, and I’m buying you your usual amount and you’ll spend a whole month without seeing him and pestering me about how wonderful he is.”

Bokuto pouted, but didn’t protest.

“Okaaay. But at least tell him that I won’t go because of something cool.” He suddenly perked up. “Tell him that I fought a mafia member and I’m in the hospital!”

“What the fuck, Bokuto? I’ll tell him the truth.”

“But I want him to think I’m cool!”, Bokuto exclaimed, which caused him a pang of pain.

“If he has met you he’ll already know you’re the furthest thing from a cool person”, Kuroo replied.

“Kurooooooo…”

“I’ll go make lunch, so don’t fall asleep again.” He left the room without waiting for an answer.

Kuroo went back to the kitchen, put everything he bought in their place and started cooking. He wasn’t hungry at all, but made himself a salad nonetheless. He had to eat something, he wouldn’t be able to put anything in his stomach again until well past midnight. While the water for Bokuto’s kitchen soup heated, Kuroo sat on the counter and rubbed his eyes. The tiredness was returning even stronger than before. He felt his muscles protest against every movement he made.

With a somber feeling invading him, Kuroo went to his room and retrieved a bottle of pills. He hated himself for needing them, but he couldn’t afford to fall asleep or be exhausted during work. He took one of them and swallowed it dry with a grimace. Suddenly, he heard Bokuto calling him from his room with a whiny voice that couldn’t mean anything good.

It was going to be a long day, indeed.  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, I can't believe how chaotic and hectic this last two weeks have been. First my laptop got a virus, then I got sick and then the schoolyear started and everything was too tiresome to work on this fic.
> 
> I'm really sorry for how much time has passed, and I'm also sorry because this chapter probably needs another session of beta'ing, but anyways... I was starting to get really anxious for not posting anything, so here you go. The next chapter may take a while because I want to advance the story a little more before posting (I tend to go back and change things, which is impossible if I post the chapters as soon as I finish them), but rest assured, I'm not abandoning this.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! ^.^

Another cold sunny morning, another almost-race through the streets, between old buildings with peeling paint. Now, at least, Kuroo wasn’t feeling exhausted. Maybe it was because, during daytime, the neighborhood looked less dangerous and more like home. Maybe because the previous night he had been able to sleep for a solid five hours.

Or maybe…

Kuroo shook his head to clear it. He entered a narrow street, discolored red sneakers hanging from a cable that connected the first two buildings. His stomach churned, like all the other times Kuroo walked down that street. Despite that, he had a mission, so he pressed down his dark thoughts and memories and continued his way. 

Kuroo opened the portal number 22 without ringing. He didn’t remember one single time the lock wasn’t broken. Immediately after entering, a strong and indescribable smell hit him. It wasn’t nice at all, a mix of pot, urine, alcohol and other things Kuroo preferred not to think about. At least it was empty.

Without putting his hands on the rail, Kuroo began ascending the stairs. There was an old elevator, but past experiences taught him it was the least reliable elevator in existence. And also it was often occupied by someone or someones who decided to crash the night –or day- or indulge in certain activities.

Finally, he arrived to the fourth floor. Without stopping for air, Kuroo approached the door with a painted number 8 and rang. He maintained his eyes fixed on the worn wood, as if that would make the whole ordeal end quicker.

After a few seconds, the door opened and a cheerful blond man greeted Kuroo.

“Kuroo! It’s been ages! Have you lost weight?”

Kuroo rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, Terushima. I’m here on an errand.”

The blond made a little pout.

“Aww, and I thought you’d come to hang out for a bit. Or to go back to being one of our most important clients.”

Kuroo snorted, suppressing a shudder as more dark memories flooded his mind. Terushima opened the door a bit more to allow Kuroo to enter the small apartment.

“Are you here to buy for the annoying owl, then?”

“Yep. He’s sick again and sent me here because he can’t buy enough to last him even a month.”

Terushima laughed as he guided Kuroo trough the corridor that divided the house in two parts. They had to talk loudly to hear each other, as some sort of party seemed to be going on in the living room.

“Ah, yeah, he’s really into the new dealer. The idiot thinks he has a chance with him”, he sighed. “Honestly, I’m glad you came instead of him. His show was amusing at first, but now it’s just embarrassing.”

Kuroo let out a short laugh.

“At least you don’t have him in your house, moping almost constantly because of his giant crush.”

They stopped in front of a closed room.

“I’m honestly glad for that”, Terushima replied as he knocked on the door. “Anyways, it’s been nice to see you again. You sure you don’t want anything for yourself?”

“Nah, I’ll pass”

Kuroo entered the room and froze in the doorway. There, sitting in a desk illuminated by the morning sun, was Akaashi. He was looking at a notebook, writing something down and muttering to himself. When he lifted his head, he froze for a moment too.

“You’re Bokuto’s new dealer?!”, Kuroo exclaimed.

Akaashi looked uncomfortable.

“Please, close the door, Kuroo-san”, he demanded.

Kuroo did as he was told and then sat in the chair in front of the desk. 

“So… what are you here for?”, Akaashi asked.

“Bokuto’s pot.” Kuroo answered automatically. “So this is why you couldn’t hang out with me today, huh?”

Akaashi was flipping some pages from his notebook, apparently ignoring his client.

“Please, don’t tell anyone at the parlor”, he asked quietly. It sounded more like an order than a request, though.

“I won’t.” Now that Kuroo tought about it, Akaashi fitted the description Bokuto had given him: dark messy hair, beautiful eyes, gentle voice, very attractive in general. Thinking about it, Kuroo understood why Bokuto had fallen for him so fast and so hard. Although Bokuto did everything in his life fast and hard.

That sounded wrong.

“It’ll be 30”, Akaashi said with an absent tone as he stood up and walked to a cupboard.

“Aren’t you living in this city for like, two months?”, Kuroo asked while he took out his wallet. “How come you’ve established so fast?”

Akaashi took a moment to answer.

“There was a vacant here, and I needed a job.”

“And the tattoo parlor?”

Akaashi shrugged as he left a plastic bag in the desk, in front of Kuroo.

“It’s more my hobby than anything.”

Kuroo paid Akaashi and took the bag. He observed the dealer intently while he wrote something down. He wasn’t telling the truth, of course, or at least not all of it. Kuroo would’ve liked to just shrug it off –it wasn’t his life anyways- but he wanted to investigate a bit the man on who Bokuto had that terrible crush. His best friend was very careless and Kuroo didn’t want him to end in some difficult shit again.

“The business is closed on Sundays, and the parlor too. Do you want to go get some coffee tomorrow?”, Kuroo asked.

Akaashi lifted his head, locking eyes with him for a moment. His expression was almost entirely neutral save from a slight frown.

“If you’re trying to pursue me too, I’m not interested.”, he answered sharply.

“Shame. But no, I don’t want anything with you.”

“So this is merely to satisfy your curiosity, Kuroo-san? Because it looks a bit like a stretch to me.”

“Partially. I’m still curious about you, but I also want to know the one my best friend has a crush on. I don’t want him to associate with bad influences, you know?”

Kuroo put on his best snarky grin, which made Akaashi’s neutral expression falter briefly.

“You know said best friend of yours is a bad influence by himself, don’t you?”

Kuroo shrugged.

“Everything can always go worse. So, what do you say?”, seeing that Akaashi frowned again and afraid of being turned down, he added, “I’ll pester you with questions in the parlor on our next appointment if you don’t come with me, I’m warning you”.

“Then it’s not an invitation, but a threat”, Akaashi replied raising an eyebrow.

“A _friendly_ threat. I’m a good person, you can ask anyone on the parlor”.

They stood still for a few seconds, looking at each other in silence. Finally, Akaashi sighed.

“Fine. You’re a pain in the ass, you know? How about tomorrow at noon?

Kuroo grinned.

***  
Bokuto rolled in his bed and whined again. He was too warm and too cold at the same time, which was incredibly annoying. His head had stopped hurting, but his nose was still runny and he coughed from time to time. Apart from that, he was a lot better than the previous day, which for some reason was worse than being sicker. He was used to be very active and spend the day going here or there, doing things. But now he was bedridden, and he hated it.

Plus, he was alone. He was alone because Kuroo went to buy his weed for him, which meant he wouldn’t see Akaashi that day. He whined again, louder. Then, suddenly sick of the blanket he was covered in, he threw it to the floor. The movement made his head dizzy for a few moments, so he whined again and coughed loudly.

His wall trembled when the neighbors hit it energically, presumably with a broom. Bokuto ignored the noise, they had already protested his whines a few times. 

Suddenly, he heard his phone vibrating somewhere on the floor. He reached to the sheet, shaking it until the device fell on the tiles, free from its sweaty prison. He smiled widely when he saw he had a text, not feeling so alone anymore.

_From: Papamura  
Hey, are you alright? Yesterday you didn’t show up. We covered you, though. Although if this is about some of your shit again, I will personally report you to the boss._

Bokuto facepalmed. He had forgotten to call his boss to tell he was sick. Again.

**To: Papamura  
sry im sick and forgot to tell u guys. Thk for covering me, ilu.**

_From: Papamura  
I reaffirm myself: if I discover you were racing someone while riding a pig again or some other shit, I’ll report you_

**To: Papamura  
Nooooo im sick i swer I had to go t the hospital and everything. Ask kuroo**

_From: Papamura  
As if he wouldn’t lie for you. Anyways, are you coming tonight or do we have to cover you again?_

**To: Papamura  
Ill call boss, I don’t think ill be able to work for a few days. I have a flu**

_From: Papamura  
Ok, I’ll trust you. Take care of yourself_

**To: Papamura  
kk :)))))))**

After sending that last text, Bokuto let himself fall on the mattress. He was a bit cold again, but he ignored it. He was beginning to feel sleepy, so he made himself comfortable and hugged his pillow.

The front door opened and closed, and Bokuto perked up when he heard the noise. He left his bed with a jump and left the room, ignoring his dizziness. Kuroo was in their tiny hall –actually, it was just the beginning of the corridor that divided their apartment in two, but they had put a hanger and a little shelf to leave the keys- putting off his jacket.  
Bokuto threw himself at his best friend, hugging him and almost making him fall.

“Bro, I missed you!”, he exclaimed. 

“Bokuto, I’ve been out for an hour.” Kuroo tried to sound serious, but he couldn’t. He patted Bokuto’s head, his hair half-soft and half-sticky. “And you should either style your hair properly or wash it. What the fuck is this mess?”

Bokuto pulled back to look at Kuroo.

“Like you’re one to talk. One day you’ll have actual birds nesting up there.”

“Ok, that’s it, I’m not giving you the weed until you do the laundry.”

“What?! Kuroo, I’m still sick!”

“Doing the laundry isn’t a big effort. Plus, you’ve been skipping your turn to do it for almost three weeks.”

Bokuto pouted and whined as Kuroo went to his bedroom. When the door closed, he rested his forehead on it and continued whining loud enough for Kuroo to hear him.

“Kuroooooo… come ooooooon… my head hurts and I’m really tired and ugggggghhh…”

Silence.

“Kurooooooooo…”

“If you do the laundry today, I’ll tell you everything about my date tomorrow”, came Kuroo’s voice through the door.

Bokuto raised his head, nearly giving himself a crack in the neck.

“What?! You’ve got a date?!”

Silence again.

“Kuroo! You can’t just say that and then shut up!”

“Then do the fucking laundry!”

Bokuto glared at the door, considering the pros and cons. Finally, he groaned and went to the kitchen.

A few moments later, while he was struggling with the detergent measures, Kuroo came into the kitchen and grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. He was feeling exhausted again, but he still had work that evening, so he couldn’t afford to sleep yet. Kuroo watched Bokuto as he sipped his drink, enjoying the sugary taste.

“I almost forgot how you look doing chores”, he teased, grinning.

Bokuto pouted.

“How did you even get a date this morning? You dating a junkie from Terushima’s community or what?”

Kuroo sipped again, anticipating Bokuto’s reaction to his words.

“Kind of. I’m going to get coffee with Akaashi tomorrow afternoon.”

Bokuto’s jaw dropped, his eyes wide as plates. He couldn’t articulate a word for a few moments, and Kuroo had to use all of his willpower to refrain from laughing.

“HOW COULD YOU?!”, Bokuto exploded finally, and Kuroo started cackling.

After a good minute of Bokuto half-crying and half-insulting Kuroo and the latter losing his shit, Kuroo put a hand in his best friend’s shoulder and told him the truth.

“Bo, it’s a joke. I’m only hanging out with him because I want to know who you’re getting involved with.”

Bokuto was still angry, but a pang of affection tinged his words.

“You worry too much, and Akaashi is a good person.”

“Really? How do you know that?”

Bokuto almost answered, but instead he shut up and shrugged.

“I’ll keep my promise and I’ll tell you everything that happens tomorrow.” Kuroo said, clutching Bokuto’s shoulder briefly. “Plus, did you know Akaashi is the artist doing my latest tattoo?”

Bokuto perked up.

“Really? Can I go with you to the parlor for your next session?”

“Bo, you can’t even see needles without fainting.”

“I’ll move on from my fears for love.”

Bokuto sounded so serious that Kuroo couldn’t help laughing again.

**

Scrub. Rinse. Scrub. Rinse. Scrub. Rinse. The process was tedious and repetitive, but Kuroo was happy nonetheless. The toilets he was cleaning weren’t precisely nice to be near them, and the regulars at that pub were kinda dangerous, but he wouldn’t complain. A job was a job, and which each time he slid the mop over the floor he could feel his financial problems getting smaller and smaller.

Every shitty job carried him a little further from the debts, the tiny reeking apartment and that dumpster of a neighborhood he and Bokuto lived in. That’s why he kept on working, and working, and working. He was determined to have a better life.

Eventually, he finished cleaning the bathroom floor and left his thoughts about life. Huffing a bit, he carried the cleaning tools to its place and grabbed a cleaning cloth to begin working at the tables on the front area of the pub. 

The regulars were loud, as always. Some of them were at the bar, screaming at the old TV in the corner. Some others were seated at the tables, conversations loud and almost undistinguishable from one another. 

But one of the tables, the only round one next to the darkest corner of the establishment, was completely silent. Four people were sitting, being watched by a small group standing near them. Suspicious, Kuro approached the table to see what was going on.

The four sitting people were playing poker. It wasn’t exactly legal, but the pub’s owner allowed it, so Kuroo didn’t say anything. Three of the four players looked to be clones of each other, all big and intimidating and covering their expressions with equally big sunglasses. The fourth player stood out, though. He was far smaller than his opponents, and looked almost too young to be in that pub. As well as the sunglasses, he was wearing a faded red hoodie with the hood up. A few strands of badly bleached hair escaped the fabric and framed his face.

Kuroo didn’t know much about poker, but judging by the size of the money mountains, the small player was winning. By a wide margin, too. Kuroo was about to leave the table and return to his work, but then the player drew two cards and the gesture triggered something inside Kuroo’s mind. His brain screamed that that boy was familiar to him, but Kuroo couldn’t point a finger as to why no matter how hard he tried to figure it out.

A loud exclamation followed by clapping and various insults cut Kuroo’s thoughts. The small player had won, bringing all the money in the table with him. However, when he started filling his backpack with it, one of the other three players tried to punch him. The small one, though, was incredibly fast —or maybe he saw it coming— and dodged it. After that, he jumped over the table and ran to the door, the other man behind him.

Almost without thinking, Kuroo stuck out a leg to make the bigger man trip and fall. When said man turned to him, furious, Kuroo shrugged.

“No violence inside the pub”, he said, “or you’ll have to answer to the boss”.

The man cursed, but Kuroo didn’t stick around to hear him. He finished cleaning the tables, still squeezing his brain thinking about that poker player. Then, he went to the backroom to grab the trash and take it out. When he arrived to the alleyway behind the bar, he found the poker player sitting next to the trash can and struggling with his backpack.

“You okay?”, Kuroo asked.

The boy turned with a start, fixing a pair of stunning gold eyes on him. Again, Kuroo’s mind struggled and screamed, trying to tell him something about that person. And again, Kuroo failed to figure it out.

The poker player looked at him for a few moments, his eyes piercing Kuroo’s face. For his part, Kuroo couldn’t even move, pinned to his feet by that look. Finally, the blond turned away and went back to try and close his too-full backpack. Kuroo noticed that the blond was using his right arm to hold it, and the left to manipulate the zipper. However, his movements were clumsy, indicating that he was right-handed.

Now without asking, Kuroo squatted down next to the boy and helped him. Strangely, he didn’t receive any complaints. Nor any thanks when they finally managed to close the backpack.

The poker player stood up and made a small bow to him as a goodbye. Then, he disappeared into the dark alleyway, leaving Kuroo with questions so heavy they made his head hurt.

Or maybe he just needed to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... it's been more than three months.  
> *coughs*  
> I could explain why it's been so freaking long, but all the reasons are actually excuses, so I'll just apologize. Sorry.  
> Anyways, I hope you like this chapter! Any form of feedback is greatly appreciated (^.^)

The cafeteria looked nice enough for Akaashi. The establishment was small and old, with signs discolored from the sun, but the atmosphere was peaceful. Outside, a few people were seated in the wooden mismatched tables talking about whatever. The place didn’t look shady or suspicious, which was something that Akaashi had learnt was uncommon during his brief stay in that neighborhood. 

“Outside or inside?”, Kuroo asked.

Akaashi balanced his options. The day was quite nice: bright and a bit chilly due to the wind that blew gently, carrying leaves with it. In other circumstances, he would have enjoyed the place and the meeting. However, he knew he was about to face an interrogation, and his thoughts soured.

“Outside”, Akaashi answered. If the situation got out of hand, he could always escape if they were outside.

“Sit down, I’ll go take the orders. What do you want?”

“I can speak to the waiter for myself, you know.”

“It’s safer if you keep our seat.”

“Black coffee, then”. Akaashi said after sighing.

Kuroo disappeared inside the tiny café, so Akaashi took his phone out of his pocket and checked it for new texts. Nothing. He checked the time: a bit past noon. Frowning, he sent a text following the one he’d sent an hour ago and spent a few seconds intently watching the conversation, a small hope of receiving an answer in his mind. Said response never came, and Akaashi felt a pang of anxiety and worry. 

“I’m back!”, Kuroo announced suddenly, startling Akaashi. He was balancing two glasses on his hands.

“That was quick.”

“This café is really good. Also the owner has a thing for me.” Kuroo finished his sentence with a wink and put the two glasses on the table.

Akaashi arched an eyebrow, but stayed in silence.

“You could at least pretend it was funny, couldn’t you?”

Akaashi shrugged and pocketed his phone.

“I don’t know why I should. We’re here because you threatened me and you’re going to invade my privacy and ask things I would never answer if it weren’t for the circumstances.  
So, can we get it over with quickly? I have places to be.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how Bo is so into you. You’re more bitter than the coffee you ordered.”

“I don’t know either, and frankly, I’d be happy for him to stop. I don’t return his feelings, and I intend to be just his… provider, and that’s it.”

Kuroo blinked a couple of times.

“Did you wake up like that today or are you really that rude? I thought you were a polite person.”

Akaashi was going to answer –he could be polite, he just didn’t want to- but a sudden movement behind Kuroo got his attention. Dumbfounded, he saw how a crow put its head inside Kuroo’s coat pocket and retrieved what looked like his wallet.

Kuroo, seeing Akaashi’s face, followed his eyes and saw the crow too, just at the same time the animal finished its robbery and started running.

“Fuck!”, he exclaimed and got up throwing the chair he was sitting in to the floor, “Come back here, you feathered rat!”

Kuroo started chasing the bird, and Akaashi shook his head just in case he was dreaming or something. Around him, a few people watched the scene, while other few were totally impassible. A couple of kids that were playing football in the street laughed. Akaashi looked at the direction Kuroo went. He could still see his silhouette crowned by his wild hair in the distance. 

Well, at least he had freed himself from a very unwanted and awkward conversation.

And now he had to pay for both coffees. 

With a sigh, he went inside the café and asked the waiter to make them to go: he could share them with his roommate back home.

***

Day three of captivity. There was barely any food in the fridge, his room smelled terrible and the loneliness was only comparable to the crushing boredom that invaded him.  
Bokuto needed to do something, or he would go insane, but he had already exhausted his options. He’d texted everyone he knew with various degrees of failure –why was everyone so busy?-, he had even tried to talk to the old lady who lived in the attic –and that was a really bad idea, as his sweatpants covered in scratches and fur could prove-.

He was laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to guess what the stains there resembled. One of them, so rectangular it looked like it was painted there, gave him an idea: internet! If he had internet he could watch something, or play some games to pass the time.

Bokuto sat up a bit too quickly, getting dizzy. However, that didn’t stop him. He went into Kuroo’s room and looked for his laptop –their laptop, technically, although Bokuto was banned from using it unless he was under supervision-. It was an old model and the screen opened with a whine, but it worked. It even had a decent percentage of battery left, so Bokuto didn’t even need to look for the charger.

Feeling much more animated, he went to the tiny living room and opened the window. He would’ve liked to breathe deep into the air, savoring the forbidden freedom, but he knew if he did, his lungs would resent it and he probably would have to spend even more days trapped at home.

Carefully, Bokuto brought a stool next to the window and used it to propel himself and sit on the edge. There was a weak current, but the weather was still warm, so he didn’t see the need to go put a jacket on. With caution, Bokuto balanced the laptop on his legs and opened the internet options, trying to connect it to the neighbor’s wifi. The signal came from the building just in front of theirs, so sometimes it was a bit difficult to catch it. For some reason, though, once connected to the wifi it worked inside the house too.

The laptop buffered for a few moments and told Bokuto that it didn’t find any wifi connection nearby. Bokuto swore and tilted his body outwards, trying again but to no avail. Bracing himself, he grabbed the window frame and stood up on the ledge, extending the arm with which he was holding the laptop. Thankfully he wasn’t afraid of heights, but even so he focused his eyes on the laptop’s screen and didn’t look down. This time, it looked like the computer was succeeding in connecting.

And then Bokuto sneezed and lost his balance.

The world became a blur for an instant, and then Bokuto found himself between garbage bags and filth, his whole body aching. Everything stank, and Bokuto regretted for a second that his nose was in perfect condition again.

After a few more moments of confusion and thinking _“Holy shit I just fell down a second floor, if this garbage dump wasn’t here I’d be dead”_ , Bokuto realized he didn’t have the laptop anymore. With a yelp, he started rummaging between the filth to find it, loudly cursing while doing so. But the task was hard and gross, so he decided to stand up and look outside the dump. The laptop was on the floor next to it, the screen unnaturally pulled backwards but still in one piece.

Relief washing over him, Bokuto tried to get out of the garbage. The bags made an unstable floor and his muscles were aching from the fall and also the flu, so it was easier said than done. Finally, he climbed over the edge of the dump, but he apparently was too heavy for it and the dump fell down, covering him in garbage. Struggling with the plastic bags and cursing loudly, Bokuto saw through the corner of his eye that someone was approaching him.

He looked at the person in hopes of asking for help and found Akaashi, as gorgeous as ever, walking while holding two cups of coffee to-go. All his frustration suddenly forgotten, Bokuto shot him his most radiant smile while trying to be as dignified as possible there, buried between garbage bags.

“Hey”, he said, his voice still a bit cranky from the flu.

Akaashi stopped and looked at him. Then, without saying a word, turned on his heels and started walking in the opposite direction, ignoring Bokuto’s calls.

***

It was cold. But not because the weather was specially so, though. The building, completely made of stone, was almost empty and its walls were cracked here and there, allowing air currents to cross the rooms freely.

In a corner of the big room in the second floor that he decided was his bedroom, Kenma was laying down on a mat and wrapped in his blanket, 3DS in his good hand. He had already gotten used to playing one-handed, though his skill level wasn’t the same. He didn’t mind. The familiar games provided him with a distraction, one that wasn’t strong enough to stop him from perceiving his surroundings but allowed him to pass the time with a minimum of entertainment.

That’s why he heard the faint noise of a car approaching and stopping behind the huge bushes growing on the back of the building. Suddenly, he remembered his phone going off sometime earlier. He berated himself inwardly, but made no movement to get up and grab the device. It was too late, after all.

Not much time after that, Akaashi appeared in the doorway, holding two cardboard cups in one hand and his car keys in the other. Kenma saw him relax at the sight of him and sigh and felt a pang of regret. He sat up, instantly feeling a chill travelling down his spine when the blanket fell off his shoulders.

Akaashi approached Kenma and sat on the part of the mat Kenma just left free. He put the two cups on the floor and stretched to grab his roommate’s phone, still showing the notification for his texts.

“You could at least answer my texts”, he said with a harsh tone.

“My phone was too far. Besides, this place is literally in the middle of nowhere. It’s safe”. Kenma mirrored Akaashi’s tone.

“If something happened…”

“You wouldn’t have time to come and help me anyways”, Kenma interrupted, “so don’t baby me.”

There was an awkward silence, during which Kenma returned to his 3DS. Akaashi looked at him for a second and sighed again. They could keep arguing –and Akaashi _wanted_ to, he was upset- but they were better off getting along. At least for the moment.

“Here, I brought coffee”, he said while offering Kenma one of the cups, the one who had belonged to Kuroo.

Kenma closed his 3DS and took it, nursing it briefly. Either it was still slightly warm or his hands were colder than he thought. He took a sip and scrunched his nose. It was too sweet.

“Where did you get this?”

“In the café I was invited to by that client. It was his.”

Kenma made a disgusted face.

“He didn’t touch it, I swear.”

The blond looked at Akaashi for a few seconds, trying to determine if his friend was telling the truth or if he gave him someone’s gross spit out of revenge for not answering his texts. Akaashi could be really petty at times.

“How come he didn’t drink from this? Didn’t you have a reunion or something?”

“More like an interrogation. But immediately after sitting up, a crow stole his wallet and he had to go.”

Kenma nodded and hummed, leaving his cup and picking up his 3DS again.

“You didn’t believe the coffee wasn’t touched, but you believed the crow thing”, Akaashi declared.

Of course Kenma believed in the bird, he had seen it a few days ago robbing another person. But he couldn’t tell Akaashi that, so he just shrugged and kept playing.

They fell into a comfortable silence. Kenma kept advancing in his game while Akaashi drank his coffee and watched the dust dancing in the sun rays that peeked through the little holes in the walls. 

Then Kenma made an annoyed noise.

“Are you going to the parlor today?”, he asked.

“It’s Sunday”, was Akaashi’s response.

Kenma groaned. His 3DS was out of battery, and he couldn’t charge it in that building.

***

Kuroo struggled to climb the last steps to his and Bokuto’s apartment. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. On a corner of his mind, he was worried because he didn’t use to get tired so much so easily, but mostly, he wanted to just fall on his bed and sleep until it was time to leave for his job in the evening.

It took a few tries until he put the key correctly in the keyhole, but he finally made it. This time, he didn’t even shout a greeting upon entering the house, that was how tired he was. He shed his coat and let it fall on the floor, forgetting to take the keys out of the keyhole and leaving the door open. He began to clumsily walk down the hallway with his shoes still on, barely conscious, putting a hand on the wall to support himself. 

Suddenly he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and upon looking up he found Bokuto looking at him with weirdly serious eyes.

“Are you ok, Kuroo?”, Bokuto’s voice was unusually serious too.

Kuroo nodded. He tried to elaborate his response, blaming his exhaustion on the fucking thief crow –at least he had managed to retrieve his wallet, although the bird made him run for almost an hour- but his voice died in his throat. He also started to black out, vaguely registering Bokuto holding him.

“Okay, you’re going to bed now”, Bokuto said.

He managed to support his best friend and carry him to his bedroom, although his body protested, still achy from the previous fall down the window. Bokuto was worried because Kuroo didn’t even move or resist him. He was practically unconscious.

Finally, Bokuto dropped Kuroo in his bed and tried to tuck him the best way he could. When he finished, Kuroo was already profoundly asleep.

Or, better said, passed out. A wave of dread and bad memories washed through Bokuto. Kuroo had always been a hard worker, but lately he was working himself out. Kuroo’s eyes were framed by dark bags and his face showed exhaustion lines, even more prominent under the afternoon light. A few months ago, Bokuto was happy to see his best friend finally investing his time in something healthy, but now he wasn’t so sure Kuroo was really doing better. He wondered if Kuroo was replacing one addiction with another and felt a lump in his throat.

Immersed in dark thoughts, Bokuto went to his room to make himself a joint. He could perceive troubles peeking into their life and didn’t feel ready to confront them yet. Also, he thought maybe the joint would ease a bit his pain from the previous fall and the embarrassing picture of himself he showed Akaashi.

Sitting in his desk, he could see a few crumpled bills between his mountain of junk. He decided in that moment to go back to work as soon as possible even if he didn’t feel completely recovered. That way, he could maybe ease a bit the burden Kuroo had put on his own shoulders.

***

The sky was grey and pink, dyeing the inside of the building as if it was an old painting. It was that time just before the night, when the sun was already down but there was still a lot of light.

Kenma sat up on his makeshift bed and stopped playing with his phone. Without the music from the game, everything around him was dead silent save the occasional birds chirping outside. It was unsettling. In fact, that silence had kept him from sleeping the first days he was there.

If everything was right, he would be alone in the building. Hugging himself to try and keep a bit of body warmth, he padded through the room and went up the stairs to the little attic. 

Empty, save a nest of pigeons. The mother looked at Kenma and ruffled her feathers in a show of irritation, but the boy didn’t pay the animal any mind. He didn’t like pigeons at all: they were smelly and when they cooed he could hear them almost from anywhere in the building. He was dreading the moment the eggs hatched and the chicks started screaming for food.

Next, he went down the stairs again. There was another half-ruined room at ground level that Akaashi used as a garage for his little car. The floor was covered in rubble, so Kenma had to be careful not to step on something hurtful. He was sick of bandages and cures. 

Kenma crossed the empty room and peeked outside from the hole in the wall that served as a door-actually, he was quite sure it used to be a door for whatever kind of building it was in the past-, careful not to touch the nettles growing just outside. 

A cold current of air moved his hair, tangling a few strands together. Kenma forced his eyes to look as far as they could. The building was outside of the city, in the middle of nowhere. From where he was standing, he could see a road leading somewhere beyond the horizon and the emptiness of the country. There was no sign of Akaashi’s car, nor another living being.

It was time.

With the usual agitation, Kenma returned upstairs to gather his things and get properly dressed. After a few minutes, he was almost ready.

He pulled out his phone and made a call. He needed a ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing this chapter was actual hell, and it's not even the most difficult one I'll write (I haven't gone too far in this story yet, but I know things are going to get complicated in the future). I really enjoy writing this story, though, and also doing research for it.
> 
> Did you know you can actually train a crow to pick up things people lose? Those birds are amazing
> 
> Also, if anyone wants to talk about this fic, Haikyuu!!, or anything (or to scream at me because I'm the slowest writer in the world) feel free to do so at thebipear.tumblr.com


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